Domestic(ish) Bliss
by Circe King
Summary: In an attempt to help pay for her grandmother's care, Scarlet Benoit starts renting out the extra rooms in her house. Ze'ev Kesley is the perfect tenant, or he would be if it wasn't for his adopted two-year-old son, Max. Modern AU, please R&R!
1. Chapter 1

**I know I should be doing something else, but I had to return to my true love, Wolflet. So here's a modern AU. Remember to review!**

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Scarlet was only eighteen when her grandmother was diagnosed with Alzheimer's. By then she had reached stage three of the illness, and had a hard time remembering to do simple tasks and people's names. Her condition quickly deteriorated, until she couldn't dress herself properly and rarely remembered what she'd eaten for breakfast. Luc lived with them for a short time to "help out" but after Scarlet caught him trying to pawn off some of her grandmother's old jewelry and threatened to shoot him, he left and never came back.

By Scarlet's twentieth birthday her grandmother had to be moved to a full time care facility. The healthcare costs were mounting quickly and she had to cut two of the three full-time farm laborers, as well as pick up extra delivery work whenever she could find it. When that still wasn't enough she finally broke down and put the two extra rooms in her farmhouse up for rent.

The first few applicants were all creeps, except for one young woman who had to back out of the deal after finding another job in the city. She reached out to her few remaining friends, and Émilie was the only one who got back to her with anyone. Apparently one of her regulars, a guy who worked at the VA in the city, was looking into moving to the country for cheap. He seemed like the perfect candidate, he had a steady job and no previous record, and the moment Scarlet saw him she was certain it would work out. He was at least six foot, and had eyes like fresh green grapes. She could tell he was a soldier from his walk, but his hair had grown long enough that he couldn't have been in the field for a few months. He was handsome, but she didn't get the feeling that he was particularly arrogant. Èmilie said he was shy, and she didn't doubt it. He was exactly the kind of person she could put up living with.

And then she saw the toddler wrapped around his leg.

"Hello," he stuck out a hand and she shook it, still in shock over the child. "I'm Ze'ev, we spoke over the phone?"

"Right! Sorry, you didn't mention..." the little boy stared up at her with a pair of grape-green eyes.

"The kid? Sorry, I don't like disclosing too much about him over the phone. We had a break-in a few weeks ago and I can be a bit…paranoid when it comes to his safety. Is the house kid-friendly?"

"Well it's a farm, so there's basically no crime around here except for the odd chicken theft. The closest school is twenty miles west, but you can be there in under a half hour if you take the highway. But I should warn you, I managed to hurt myself pretty badly as a kid. There's a lot of dangerous tools lying around...and my grandmother had a habit of leaving a loaded shotgun by the door."

"I've had plenty of experience with guns, was your grandmother a Winchester woman?"

Scarlet smiled. "Mossberg, actually. She says Winchester guns are designed to look pretty and wear out faster."

"And you?"

"Handguns are more my style, though I don't use mine outside the shooting range."

"I'm guessing you like the maneuverability of it."

"How'd you know?"

He covered the boy's ears. "I used to keep a handgun in my bedside drawer before the little guy started crawling and getting into things."

"How old is he?"

"Max?" the little boy raised three fingers proudly. "Actually he's two, we're still working on numbers."

"Is he bathroom trained?"

"Nearly, he still sleeps in diapers though. He's just a bit shy right now, he'll usually talk your ear off if you let him. Say hi, Max."

"Hi," the boy mumbled, dropping his head onto Ze'ev's shoulder.

"There's a daycare center right near where I work, so he'll only be here when I am too. I hope he won't be a problem."

Scarlet sighed. "As long as you can pay rent you can do whatever you want."

"So…I can move in?"

"If you want to, you haven't exactly seen the rooms yet."

"Right!" he blushed and rubbed his neck. "Sorry, you're the first person who hasn't turned us away."

"The people around here aren't too kind to strangers, I still get weird looks for my accent."

"What accent?" he smiled cheekily.

"You're funny. Come on, the rooms are upstairs."

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 **Any thoughts? Reviews are great!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hopefully this chapter will give everyone a bit more information and back story for the AU, and thanks to everyone who reviewed!**

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Scarlet's favorite thing about having tenants was the sudden appearance of name brand foods in the pantry. In the last few months she'd cut down on grocery shopping, anything she didn't grow she bought in bulk. She'd been living on vegetables and ramen, and the odd lasagna from Èmilie. Ze'ev, however, spared no expense when it came to food, though he was quite possibly the worst cook she'd ever seen.

"Did you…burn pasta?" she asked, watching as he tried to disperse the smoke filling the kitchen. "I'm not even mad, that's pretty impressive."

"Actually I think I burned the sauce."

"Alright, move over," she pushed him out of the way and moved the pot off the burner. "First, we're going to have to start all over. Dump…wait, what _is this_?"

He glanced at the contents of the pot. "My attempt at a meat sauce?"

"Attempt is right. Dump this in the trash, I'll get the ingredients ready."

She dug through the pantry and found a few cloves and garlic and a whole onion, along with olive oil. She returned to the kitchen to find Ze'ev trying to scrape the remains of the "meat sauce" out of the pot while Max watched from a perch on the counter. Scarlet ruffled the toddler's hair as she passed, and he giggled.

"Alright, I want you to chop this onion for me while I get some stuff from the cellar."

"What about the pot?"

She tugged on her shoes and nudged the cellar door open. "Oh that's going to need to soak overnight, I have another one in that cupboard. I'll be right back."

The cellar was cool despite the hot weather, and the air felt slightly damp. She slipped down the stairs quickly, vaulting over the sagging bottom step that always buckled a bit under her weight. When she was little she was certain there was a monster that lived under the stairs and ate her grandmère's preserves, that was the only way she could explain the sudden appearance of broken glass and loud groans some nights. She didn't find out until later that her father also kept his secret stash of booze in one of the boxes, and sometimes when he drank he became violent. Scarlet seemed to be the only one to avoid his drunk tirades, her grandmother would have killed him if he ever laid a hand on his own daughter.

She found the tomato paste and puree stacked with the pickled eggs, her grandmother's favorite snack. Scarlet absolutely hated them, along with anything else pickled. The dried herbs hung over her head and she grabbed a few leaves of oregano and rosemary before climbing back up the stairs.

Max was watching Ze'ev chop the onion, and held a piece in his chubby fist. "I wouldn't eat that if I were you," Scarlet caught his hand. "It's not very good raw."

"Smells funny." Max rubbed at his face, wiping away the tears in his eyes.

"I'm sure it does. If you promise not to eat them, you can hold these instead," she handed him the dried leaves and he snatched them up, the slice of onion forgotten. "They smell much nicer."

Scarlet dragged another pot down and set it on the burner, turning it up to medium heat. She drizzled the bottom with oil and dropped in a helping of butter, the garlic and Ze'ev's chopped onions fallowed. "Get the ground beef from the fridge."

He handed her the tube of ground beef and she grimaced. "If you're going to live in the country, you need to start buying meat at the local market. Most of the name brand stuff is good, but meat is another story altogether," she tossed in the meat as well and tugged Ze'ev towards the stove. "Now mix it until it's brown and crumbly, I'll get the pasta started."

"Where did you learn how to make this?" he asked as she tugged down another pot and filled it with water.

"My grandmother likes Italian food almost as much as French food, though she won't admit it. I can make pasta by hand if need be, but it's easier just to use the store-bought stuff."

"There was an Italian restaurant by our old apartment, but the owner didn't like me very much. I think he assumed bad decisions run in the family."

"How do you mean?"

Ze'ev paused and glanced at Max, who was watching their conversation intently. "Max can you go find your blanket?" he picked the toddler up off the counter and set him on the ground. "I think it's in the living room."

"Mmkay," Max tugged on Scarlet's leg and handed her the herbs back before rushing out of the room.

"Sorry, I don't like him hearing about this sort of thing. I have a brother, Ran, real piece of work. He used to work for a gang downtown, and now he's serving five years for carrying an unlicensed concealed handgun. He's Max's biological dad."

Scarlet paused and glanced at him. "But I thought…"

"Technically I'm his uncle, but I've been his legal guardian since he was two weeks old."

"What about his mom?"

Ze'ev went quiet and turned his attention back to the food on the stove. Bitter shame burned at the back of Scarlet's throat.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"No," he caught her off. "It's a fair question. Caroline died in a car accident two weeks after he was born, drunk driving incident."

"Did they catch the guy that killed her?"

"There was no guy. Her blood alcohol level was three times the legal limit, she wrapped her car around a lamp pole."

Scarlet felt like someone had punched her in the gut. "Where was Max?"

"With me, and that's where he stayed."

They lapsed into an awkward silence, punctuated by the loud hisses and pops coming from the pot he was stirring. She wished she hadn't asked, she certainly didn't love talking about her own family problems. Her father had been a drunk, sure, but he never did anything worse than break a few bottles.

"She was sick," he said suddenly, finally breaking the silence. "She barely stopped drinking through her pregnancy, and when Ran got locked up I think it broke something in her. Max lived with me practically from the day he was born, she couldn't stand to look at him most of the time. But she loved him, I know she did. How else could she have stayed sober for months?"

"My father…" she took a deep breath. "My father was the same way. He used to go weeks without a single drop, but once things got bad again he'd stay out for days without checking in. When the police showed up to deliver the bad news, I don't think anyone was surprised."

"How did he…?"

"Alcohol poisoning."

"I'm so-"

"Found it!" Max came barreling back into the room with his tattered blanket held high.

"Good job, buddy," Ze'ev ruffled his hair.

"Watch TV?" he asked, bouncing up and down.

"Sure, bud, if Miss Scarlet's okay with it."

Max turned his big eyes on her and she smiled. "Sure, I'll turn on some cartoons for you."

They walked out of the kitchen and he climbed onto the couch, curling up with the blanket over his knees. Scarlet perched next to him and flipped through the channels.

"Why crying?"

She froze and touched her face, just noticing the wetness on her cheeks. "The onions. The smell makes me all teary-eyed."

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 **I know this is supposed to be a happy little AU, but with wolflet it's pretty hard to get to the fluff without cutting through the sadness and angst first. Future chapters will be much happier and far less sad! Remember the review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm so sorry for the wait, but I just started college and I haven't had a whole lot of time to write. My updates will probably be sporadic, but I'll try to update once a week.**

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Scarlet didn't realize how bad of an idea waking up at four thirty and running down the wooden stairs in her socks was until she smashed her face into the bannister and slammed her ribs into the steps. She lay on her stomach for a long time, splayed out across the landing with blood running down her face from a cut on her forehead. The pain hadn't hit yet, she was still trying to get a few gasps of air, but she was acutely aware of just how bad things were going to be. Before she could even muster a cry for help she heard pounding footsteps and caught a glimpse of bare feet at the top of the stairs, then rushing down to where she lay. She felt careful hands turn her onto her back, and then the pain hit and she had to stifle down a scream.

"It's okay, I've got you," Ze'ev's calm voice conflicted with his frantic search for injuries, pressing on her ribs to make sure nothing was broken and checking for bumps on her scalp. He carefully pulled her into a sitting position when he was sure she hadn't injured her back, and she dropped her head onto his shoulder. "You're alright."

"I disagree…" she choked out, and he laughed.

"Here," he leaned her against the wall and slipped off his shirt. She tried not to stare, and she was relieved when he reached over and pressed the fabric against her forehead. "You're still bleeding."

"Thanks," her head was pounding, and blood still poured from the cut on her face. "I didn't wake Max, did I?"

Ze'ev smiled. "He's still out, maybe I should let you babysit him more often."

"I'm not a babysitter," she mumbled, blinking black dots from her vision.

"I know. Do you think you can walk? I want to get a better look at that cut, and there's antiseptic in the bathroom upstairs."

"Let me try," she grabbed his arm and held on as he stood, barely managing to stay on her feet. Her stomach flipped and she grimaced, bracing herself against the wall.

"Here, just lean on me."

He wrapped an arm around her waist and she leaned on him, trying not to touch his bare chest too much. They started up the stairs slowly, but at about the halfway point her dizziness returned. She grabbed the bannister and curled in on herself, pressing harder on her forehead as she tried to ride it out. She didn't argue when he scooped her up, just curled up against him and tried to keep breathing.

"I'm getting blood on you," she mumbled.

"I've had worse."

"Was that in Afghanistan, or Iraq?"

Ze'ev froze and she glanced at him, staring at the shocked look on his face.

"Was I not supposed to know that?"

He finished the climb and set her down on the bathroom counter before he finally replied. "I just don't really talk about it, most people don't figure it out for a while." He found the antiseptic and dumped it on a rag while she tried to concentrate on the wall in front of her.

"You're massive, work for the VA and- OW!" he pressed the rag against her forehead without warning. "Warn me next time!"

"Sorry," he leaned in close to get a better look. "I don't think you need stitches, if it helps."

"Great."

Scarlet started to get her bearings back as he finished cleaning out the cut, and by the time he was done she was almost fully awake.

"I need a shower," she tried to pry her blood-caked hair off her head and grimaced.

"Can you stand for that long?"

"Let's see," she jumped down, ignoring his outstretched arm, and took a moment to steady herself against the counter. "I think I can manage."

"Are you sure?" he looked unwilling to leave.

"I'll yell if I need help," she turned on the shower and heard him leave, though she didn't hear him walk down the hall. She poked her head out the door to find him standing right next to the door, and he didn't look like he was going to move.

It took nearly ten minutes of vigorous scrubbing to get the blood out of her hair, her legs were shaking and her head was starting to pound again. She held herself up on the shower curtain rod with one hand and awkwardly tried to dry herself off. Her forehead was still bleeding, though sluggishly, and she carefully dried it before digging out a bandaid and pasting it on. She realized at the last minute that her shirt was covered in blood, and the shirt Ze'ev gave her wasn't much better.

"Hey," Scarlet leaned against the door to let some weight off her legs. "Can you grab me one of my oversized t-shirts?"

"Sure. Do you need anything else?"

She considered asking for clean underwear, but decided it would be too awkward. "No, that's all I need."

"Alright."

By the time he returned she was beginning to nod off leaning against the counter. She rested her head against the cool mirror and took deep breaths. He knocked on the door and she jumped up, carefully pulling the door open only enough for him to slip her the shirt.

"Thanks," she tugged the shirt over her head, grimacing as the collar brushed her forehead.

"Are you sure you don't want to see a doctor?" he asked when she stepped out of the bathroom. "I have a friend in med school who wouldn't mind looking at your head for you."

"I once fell off a hay bale and hit my head on the barn wall, it was much worse than this. I just need to sleep it off."

He followed her into the room and waited until she was settled in bed before finally leaving, and for once Scarlet was actually grateful for her overprotective roommate.

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 **I'm not so sure about this chapter, maybe because there's no adorable toddler to hide my terrible writing. Please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**So I've had this chapter on retainer for a while, that's why I was able to update so quickly.**

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Ze'ev hadn't lived with an adult in over two years, and he hadn't realized how much he'd missed it. Suddenly his early morning coffee included a sleep-deprived ginger trying (and often failing) not to fall asleep at the table. Scarlet was obviously overworked, but when she wasn't nodding off into her breakfast they had great conversations. She had the kind of dry wit that made him smile like they shared a common secret, and she didn't mind entertaining Max to keep him from throwing food. He didn't know how it happened, but after a few days he found himself wishing he could spend more time with her. He missed her at work, and he caught himself smiling when she texted him to remind him to get the groceries or to reschedule Max's pediatrician's appointment because she can't take him before three.

Max loved following her around the farm, although he was terrified of the chickens after the rooster chased him around the coup. She liked to joke he knew the names of more vegetables than Ze'ev, and in all honesty she was probably right. His new favorite toy was a dried cornhusk doll Scarlet's grandmère made her when she was young, he called it Star and tried to color the hair orange with a crayon.

Ze'ev had to stay late one night, and Scarlet offered to swing by and grab Max on the way home from her deliveries.

"Hey, I need your keys."

Ze'ev's head snapped up so fast his neck twinged. Scarlet stood in front of him in her loose jeans and ratty sweatshirt, her cheeks were flushed from the three-story climb and her hair was beginning to slip from her ponytail. The bruise on her forehead was finally beginning to recede and she was starting to look normal again. "Uh…yeah, sure."

"Thanks," she fished out her own keys and passed them to him. "I'm parked right near the entrance, just take my care home."

"Don't forget, he needs to be in his crib by-"

"Nine," she rolled her eyes. "I know the rules, Z, this isn't my first time watching him."

"Alright, do you want me to grab anything on the way home?"

"It's Thursday."

"So…pizza?"

"You know me so well," she smiled. "What time are you planning on getting home?"  
"Ten at the latest."

"See you then," she slung her bag over her shoulder again. "By the way, that receptionist of yours is flirting with the IT girl when he's supposed to be working."

"Yeah, I know. Do you think you could straighten him out a bit?"

Scarlet smirked and stuck her hands in her pocket. "I'll see what I can do."

When Ze'ev finally got home around eleven with a pizza balanced on one arm and an apology already hanging on his tongue, he expected to find Scarlet waiting at the table. Instead he found her curled up on the couch with Max tucked against her chest. His chubby fingers were wrapped around a chunk of her hair, and he had the cornhusk doll dangling from the crook of his elbow. Scarlet's chest rose and fell periodically, but every once in a while she mumbled something under her breath. She'd had a hard sleeping the last few nights, and he was glad to finally see her sleeping.

Scarlet cracked an eyelid and sighed. "Hey."

"Hey," he slipped into the room and set the food down on the coffee table.

She loosened on of her arms and checked her watch. "You're late."

"And you said you'd have him in his crib by nine."

Scarlet yawned so wide her jaw cracked. "I did, he had a nightmare and wouldn't stop crying when I tried to leave him."

"I brought pizza."

"Thank god," she dragged herself up, careful to keep Max steady. "I should probably take him back upstairs."

"No, I'll take him. I should've been here earlier anyway. You can go ahead and start eating."

"I'm not going to argue with that," she smiled sleepily, and Ze'ev felt his heart do a small flip. "So…how do you propose we do this? I know how he is if you wake him up."

"I'll hold him, and you try to get his hand out of your hair."

She carefully handed him the toddler, who snuggled against Ze'ev's chest without making a peep, and slowly set to work on his iron grip on her hair. She was sitting practically in Ze'ev's lap, and he could feel his cheeks starting to warm. A stray lock of hair hung in front of her eyes and he reached forward to brush it away, she paused.

"Thanks. Why does he love my hair so much, anyway?" she whispered, grimacing as she tore a few strands free.

"It's shiny, I guess, and soft."

"Your hair's soft too, I don't see him tearing it out of your head every chance he gets."

"That's because I don't hold him all the time."

"You know he cries if I don't. I guess I'm just a better cuddler than you are."

Ze'ev raised an eyebrow and she chuckled under her breath. "Is that so?"

"Mm-hm. Softer too."

"I'm plenty soft!"

She gave him a look and poked his chest. "Just as I suspected, like rock."

"That's not fair, just because I don't have your…" he drifted off as he realized what he was saying, "…curves?"

Scarlet laughed, but a pretty pink blush crept up her neck. "That's a nice way of putting it. Most guys either see the extra chub and run for the hills, or make as many lewd comments as possible."

"Thorne didn't-"

"The receptionist? Oh no, he was too busy staring at that nice girl from IT. Her name's Cress, by the way. Besides the sweatshirt kind of works like a social camouflage, no one sees past it."

"So that's why you wear it all the time?"

"Kind of," she finally pulled the last strands out of Max's fist, but she didn't pull away. "My grandmère gave it to me when I was fifteen, it's like carrying a piece of her everywhere I go."

"If you don't mind me asking, when did she…?"

"She's still alive," she saw the surprised look on his face and shrugged. "She doesn't like people knowing about her condition. She's in an Alzheimer's facility right outside the city and I try to visit her on Tuesdays."

"I had no idea. How is she?"

"She's in the last stage of the disease, so she needs constant care. She remembers who I am most of the time, but last week she called me Anaïs for the first ten minutes."

"Anaïs?"

"My mom's name," she glanced down at Max and brushed a hand through his hair. "She looks nothing like me, she's tall and willowy and dark. I haven't seen her since I was even younger than Max."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Max sighed loudly and started to squirm. "Maybe I should get him upstairs."

Scarlet sat back and Ze'ev barely caught himself before he leaned back into her. He stood carefully and hurried up the stairs.

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 **Thanks to everyone for their wonderful reviews, I love all your feedback!**


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm back! I'm still really busy with school but I decided I should go ahead and publish this chapter. Thanks to everyone for their wonderful reviews!**

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The shooting range was a mostly bare area along the west side of the property, though the only evidence was a few busted cans Scarlet missed. She preferred to use empty soda cans to target practice, though her grandmére had a few moving targets rigged up. They were stored in the shed now, Scarlet didn't want to waste the electricity to run them. She was usually careful to protect her ears, but when she was especially stressed the noise combined with the shock of the recoil helped her calm down.

The day her grandmére's doctor called to let her know about the results of a recent blood test Scarlet took her pistol out of its safe and stalked out the door without acknowledging Max or Ze'ev.

She chose not to take the truck to the western edge of the property and she ran the whole way. Her feet pounded against the dry earth and her legs started to ache almost immediately, she hadn't run much since she was young. She used to be able to run up and down the property, now she could hardly get halfway across without getting a painful stitch in her side. She'd always been big, she grew up on a hardy farm diet combined with her grandmére's French cuisine that put meat on her bones almost faster than she could lose it. Puberty left her curvy, but still heavy, and she hadn't really bothered to try to lose the extra weight. Her last check-up had been nearly a year ago, but the doctor said she was healthier than most adults her age.

By the time she reached the shooting range her lungs ached and her sides felt like she'd been stabbed, but the exercise helped clear her head a bit. She loaded the gun with the quick efficiency she'd learned from years of practice, and emptied the clip in into the small hill twenty feet away.

"Your grandmother's test results came back-"

 _Bang._

"-I'm sorry to tell you this-"

 _Bang._

"-should be prepared for the worst-"

 _Bang._

"-my sincerest apologies-"

 _Bang._

"-a month, maybe two-"

 _Bang._

"-she's near the end."

 _Click._

Scarlet loaded another clip and shot until the ground beneath her feet was coated in shell casings. Her arms ached from the recoil and her ears were ringing, gun powder burned in her nostrils. She flicked the safety on and stuck the gun in the front pocket of her sweatshirt. Her chest wasn't nearly as tight, but as she started to walk home she realized there were tears on her cheeks. She dried them on her sleeve and kept walking, letting the slowly cooling evening air clear her head.

She locked the gun up the moment she got home, but Ze'ev didn't speak until he put Max to bed. Her hands shook as she heated up a bowl of soup in the microwave, and she tried to concentrate on her food instead of letting her thoughts stray. By the time Ze'ev came back downstairs she was cured up on the couch with a blanket wrapped around her and a mug of warm water clutched to her chest.

"What are you drinking?" he asked, settling beside her on the couch.

"Hot water," she took another sip and curled in on herself further. "Helps me calm down."

"Your grandmother's doctor called, didn't he?"

"Right to the point, aren't you?"

"I guess that's one thing we have in common," his legs jogged up and down with extra energy. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"It's fine," she took a deep breath. "She, um- she's got less than two months before…" she choked and clamped a hand over her mouth.

He reached out and patted her head awkwardly. "Hey, it's okay. I'm here."

Scarlet sobbed and clenched her hands around the mug. "She's not supposed to die like this. She's Michelle Benoit, dammit! She fought in three wars, she became pilot when everyone told her she couldn't, she raised a kid on her own and- yeah sure my dad turned out to be an jack-ass but I wound up pretty okay considering- she's not supposed to die like this! She's supposed to go out in a blaze of glory taking a dozen bad guys with her, not withering away in a hospital bed. Not losing everything that made her great, not forgetting who she was. She's even forgetting me, and I don't know if I can take that."

She felt him move, and suddenly she was enveloped in warmth. His arms were wrapped around her in a tight, comforting embrace and she dropped her head onto his shoulder, finally letting the tears fall freely. It was awkward, like most first hugs, but it was the first comfort she'd accepted in weeks. She let herself breathe him in an

"I'm getting water all over your shirt," she mumbled, finally pulling away. "I need to stop dumping my problems on you."

"I don't really mind," he smiled awkwardly. "You get kind of scary when you bottle things up for too long."

" _I_ get scary?" she laughed and shoved him. "Have you seen yourself? You're over six feet of muscle and scar tissue! If I didn't already know you're a giant teddy bear I'd be terrified of you."

"To be fair half of these," he pointed at the myriad of scars on his face and neck. "Don't have very interesting backstories."

"Well now you have to tell me," she leaned forward and touched a crosshatch on his temple. "How'd you get this one?"  
"I think that's from a car accident I was in when I was seventeen. I also broke my collar bone," he tugged his collar down a bit and pointed at another pale scar there. "The car was completely destroyed."  
She knew he was just trying to distract her, but she needed to be distracted. "And there?"

He ducked a bit when her knuckles brushed the scar on his jaw. "I got bit by a neighbor's dog as a toddler, I yanked on its tail."

Scarlet leaned in further to get a better look at the scar, and she noticed him swallow. "You can still kind of see the bite marks."  
"Yeah," his gaze fell on her lips and her heart dropped into her stomach.

"And here?" she was suddenly breathless as her fingertips brushed the small indent on his bottom lip. "How did this one happen?"

"I got in a fist fight," his bright green eyes had darkened considerably and his gaze still rested on her mouth. "Just a stupid fight."

She leaned forward slowly, giving him a chance to lean back. Her nose brushed his and she felt him gasp just before she captured his lips with her own. She moved her hand into his hair and tugged lightly until he sighed and ducked his head to deepen the kiss. Warmth exploded in her chest, and all she could think was _yes, this is good, yes_.

And then, as quickly as it had started, Ze'ev ended it with a rueful shake of his head. She whined when he pulled away, and the warmth was immediately replaced with the bitter taste of rejection.

"I'm sorry," he shot to his feet. "I'm so sorry, but this isn't a good idea."

Scarlet sighed and dropped her head into her hands as he practically ran up the stairs. "Stupid," she spat, yanking on the ends of her hair. " _Stupidstupidstupid_."

She was always doing things like this, jumping into relationships at the worst possible times. She wanted to talk to her grandmére more than anything else in the world, but that wasn't an option anymore. She felt utterly and completely alone.

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 **Yes I know it's sad I promise it'll get better soon. The next chapter will be from Ze'ev's POV, and Max will probably play more of a part. Remember to review!**


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